


revenge is always sweet (it’s the aftertaste that’s bitter)

by sunset_oasis



Series: Innocent Before Yesterday [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark and depressing in general, F/F, F/M, Moral Ambiguity, Murder, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 12:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_oasis/pseuds/sunset_oasis
Summary: He hadn’t seen her after leaving Hogwarts, but she still looked the same as ever, overly beautiful in a way that made him instinctively distrustful. As pretty as sin, in the most literal sense.“Hello, Severus Snape,” Gabriella Zabini smiled at him, sharp and elegant and dangerous all at the same time, “sold out any old crushes lately?”





	revenge is always sweet (it’s the aftertaste that’s bitter)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  
> Warning: Major character death. Angst. Murder. Moral ambiguity. Dark, depressing, unhappy ending.

 

She wasn't exactly who he'd expected to see when someone knocked on the doors of his house at Spinners End. Then again, Severus wasn't really sure what he was expecting either. He'd just gotten back from Dumbledore's, and tied himself to some lifelong double agent vow, hoping for some kind of penance.

He hadn't seen her after leaving Hogwarts, but she still looked the same as ever, overly beautiful in a way that made him instinctively distrustful. As pretty as sin, in the most literal sense.

"Hello, Severus Snape," Gabriella Zabini smiled at him, sharp and elegant and dangerous all at the same time, "sold out any old crushes lately?"

His eyes narrowed, a snarl ready to escape his lips, and his hand flew to his wand; but before he could draw it out, hers was already pointed at his chin. Her smile widened, but it the smile didn't reach her eyes.

Not that he was ever naïve enough to believe it would.

"Let's go inside for a little chat, shall we," she asked, her voice smooth as ever, "wouldn't want to alarm the muggles."

He gritted his teeth. He could try to overpower her, of course, but he was in a really awful condition tonight. Plus, he'd always known that the famous Italian beauty wasn't one to be underestimated. "Come inside."

Her dark brown eyes sparkled victoriously.

It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

For a moment, neither of them said anything after they sat down. She sipped the tea she'd made him offer her, gracefully and casually as if it were just a social call. He felt impatient, but he didn't want to speak first, as he didn't know how much information she'd already had.

(Of course, knowing her and her wide connections, it could be everything. Still, no need to give her any new advantages she didn't already have.)

He considered, for a moment, to hex her or something as she seemed off her guard. But maybe that was just a deception, and she was actually secretly waiting for his attack. He might be a little paranoid, but you could never be too cautious when dealing with Gabriella Zabini.

Finally, Severus grumbled, "Well, chat then."

She set down the tea slowly, turning her sharp gaze on him. Then she said, in a flat tone – so very different from the earlier fake smile and artificial sweetness – "You caused her death."

Denial was his first reaction. He wasn't sure which side she was on, except for her own. He eyed her calmly, "That's a bold accusation."

She arched an eyebrow, "I think the adjective you're looking for is 'accurate'."

He scoffed. "I don't know what rumors you've been listening to –"

"There're a lot of things you don't know," she assured him, cutting across him smoothly. Severus's jaw tightened – this woman was a bloody  _nightmare_. He usually was better at keeping his temper, but she was  _infuriating_.

"Whatever your connections told you, it's most certainly not true," he said icily.

Her mouth twitched ever so slightly, "So, if my connections told me that you most certainly did not told your precious Dark Lord the prophecy you overheard, and did not try to stop him from going after the Potters once you realized then failed spectacularly? Would you say my sources were not true, then?"

He froze, wondering how the hell she knew so much. Her eyes were focused on him intently, taking in his every reaction. "You know nothing," his voice was sharp, but it was trying not to crack.

"Enlighten me, then," she drawled.

"I'm not obliged to," he snapped, annoyance rising higher and higher each moment. But under the annoyance, there was also fear and uncertainty, which he chose to ignore. "Why do you care? Didn't she broke up with you?"

"You must be confusing me with you," she leant back against the chair. "Oh wait – sorry, I forgot, you two were never together." She gave him an angelical smile, and he knew immediately that she was doing this on purpose. "At any rate,  _I_  broke up with her, not the other way around."

He started to ask something, but she continued, with a careless shrug, "I'm not really one for relationships, much less marriage. But I  _am_  rather fond of her. If I couldn't offer her a relationship while she was alive, I could at least avenge her death after she's been killed."

He felt oddly calm, despite the implications in her statement. "So you're here to kill me then?"

She gave him an amused smile, "Do you think I'll be so stupid as to dismantle a useful weapon? No, you're going to help me crush your dear old boss."

Something stirred inside him, something that felt like fear, but he suppressed it and gave her a disdainful frown. "Don't be ridiculous. He's dead."

"Not permanently," she replied, and he shivered. It was the second time today he'd heard of this … hypothesis. First from Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful figures that the Dark Lord was afraid of, and then from this woman who looked like a social butterfly on the surface but deep down was so much more.

Her eyes narrowed as she gauge his reaction and said slowly, "You've known this. Well, probably not know, but heard, and you were skeptical. Either you heard it within the Death Eater circle, or you've already contacted Dumbledore. How very fast to switch sides when the wind began blowing in a different direction."

"How did  _you_  come to this knowledge?" he said, harshly.

"I know a lot of things," she gave him a smile – this time a mocking one. "And a lot of people. Let's just say good ol Slughorn always quite liked me."

That was surprising. He'd always thought Slughorn an old fool, who knew he'd possessed such a knowledge? " _Slughorn_  knew?!"

She merely scoffed, and he didn't know if it was a yes or a no.

"By the way, this conversation is private. You can't tell anyone about it," she suddenly added. "And I mean that literally. You really can't. I casted some charm to lock this conversation – some altered version of the fidelius. And I'm the secret keeper."

"I've never heard of such a spell," he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

She shrugged, smiling beautifully again, "As we've already established, there are rather a lot of things you don't know."

"And why should I help you?" he brought back the earlier question.

"Well, let's see, shall we? First, if you're already Dumbledore's person, then your ultimate goal would be rather similar with mine, I should think. Secondly, if you refuse, I could kill you right now. Or pull some connections to get you sent to Azkaban, and even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to save you. Thirdly," her eyes turned cold, "you owe Lily."

He wanted to glare at her, or to yell at her, to tell her that she had no right to say this. But the words stuck in his throat, choking him, making him unable to respond.

"Fine," he finally croaked out, his voice shakier than he'd liked.

"Excellent," she drawled, and took another sip of tea.

"Are you going to make me swear some vow?" He asked coldly.

"No need," she shrugged. "You can't tell anyone anything about this. And if I found out you are not actually going to help me, I'll just kill you."

He glared at her, but somehow didn't doubt the truthfulness of her words. Then he asked another question, "Are you also trying to protect Harry Potter, or are you just interested in revenge against the Dark Lord?"

She waved her hand airily, " _Please._  I could care less about that brat. He's not Lily. I mean, sure, he's got her blood, but," she paused, her grin sharpening, "I've never cared about Lily's  _blood_ , have I? Rather unlike  _some_."

He let out a growl at the double meaning she clearly intended for that word, and she stood up to leave, the grin not fading, and said, "Until next time then, Mr. Snape."

 

* * *

 

Severus realized that spell, the altered version of the fidelius, was actually in effect. He found himself unable to tell even Dumbledore about the conversation. While that woman was neither Albus Dumbledore nor the Dark Lord, she was certainly lethal and dangerous in her own way. Powerful, in a subtler way. It made him wary and uncomfortable, and, honestly, more than a little envious. He wished  _he_  was like that. She was also scarily intelligent and observant and good with words, always knowing what to say to hurt most or to rile people up.

But despite how infuriating she could be at times, he had admit cooperating with her had its own merits. After all, as she'd previously pointed out, he was working towards the same goal of destroying Voldemort with Dumbledore anyway. Her knowledge of both dark arts and gossips floating around the society was remarkable, and certainly plenty useful. She was also efficient and coldblooded, and patient when it needed to be. ("Revenge is a dish best served cold," she'd said.)

Definitely one of the most competent people he'd ever worked with, if what they were doing right now could be called "working together."

 

* * *

 

Severus Snape was vastly different from most people in her life. He played a completely different role to the others, and he shared more secrets of hers than the others, too. Well, he was certainly still a tool to Gabriella, like most were, but he was a much more intelligent and useful one. Wealth and political positions had their uses, of course, but they were also easily replaced. Too many people owed her favors or were charmed by her and would do anything she asked.

Snape, though – he was definitely not one of the replaceable assets.

He was special.

And that was fine. Just like – a specially made Swiss Knife or something. Multifunctional. Useful. Still a tool.

It would've continued to be fine if she didn't started to realize she might genuinely enjoy his company.

 

* * *

 

She told him about the Horcruxes. It took some extensive research, piecing together clues from whispers, from shady dealings from the Knockturn Alley, from various information from various connections, from guesswork of trying to understand an insane Dark Lord's mind, to analyze what the objects might be.

It took years. But she seemed patient, and was also at the same time continuing cultivating her social life. Severus could see news about her every once in a while, another marriage, another dead husband, another fortune gained.

"I thought you said you weren't one for marriage," he remarked to her one day.

Her lips curled in amusement, "Oh, I probably wasn't being clear enough. I meant, I wasn't one for marrying for love." She laughed, her voice ringing in the room like a bell, "Profit, of course, is another matter."

He snorted.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes she would bring her son around, after threatening Severus not to harm him. For a woman who seemed to truly care about so few things, she seemed fiercely protective of her son. Severus filed that knowledge away for future reference, just in case he ever needed it someday as leverage.

Though he did totally believe her when she said she'd continue the revenge herself and crush Severus, were he ever to try to use her son against her.

Blaise Zabini was clever and sharp, like his mother, but more arrogant and less subtle and clearly a little spoiled, Severus thought. Still, he was a kid and his mother was the infamous Black Widow, so Severus supposed the comparison wasn't exactly fair.

 

* * *

 

While she was a natural at deception, at disguises, at smiling admiringly at men in powerful positions and flattering them, it was also pretty boring most of the time. It was almost too easy, dealing with them.

And perhaps that was why she actually enjoyed cooperating with Severus Snape on her revenge plan. She didn't have to fake herself in front of him (that much), and she could definitely be as scathing as she wanted, not worrying she needed to seduce him. And he was smart and already knew most of her secrets, making him definitely capable of holding interesting and intelligent conversations with.

It wasn't something wrong to enjoy someone's company, she knew, but she also knew how some things might not go according to plan if she started to, like, more than enjoy his company.

She had a feeling that didn't really like the direction her heart was going.

She knew it would only hinder her plan.

 

* * *

 

It took years. Along the way, Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets and the wretched Potter brat destroyed one of the horcruxes without knowing what it was. Severus finally convinced Gabriella to allow him to tell Dumbledore that he knew of Horcrux. He didn't mention her, of course, but instead said he'd heard things within the Death Eater circles and read some Dark Arts books.

Dumbledore knew the Dark Lord's history quite well, and it did accelerate some process. The Dark Lord came back. Gabriella somehow orchestrated something behind Severus's back which included the temporary death of Potter (he was livid when she told him afterwards, demanding her what if the death  _wasn't_  temporary, and she'd only shrugged and gave him a  _look_.)

She was as infuriating as she'd first came to his house.

Worse, still as infuriatingly clever and infuriatingly intriguing as well.

 

* * *

 

After Voldemort's death, almost the whole wizarding world was celebrating. But she wasn't, because she knew there was still something that needed to be done.

She only worried that she wasn't capable of finishing that task anymore.

Years ago, when she vowed revenge, she'd planned on not only finishing off Voldemort, who were the one that killed Lily Evans (she would always be Lily Evans in Gabriella heart, never Lily Potter), but also Severus Snape, who brought the prophecy to Voldemort as well.

She'd found an old ritual from some book, one that would allow her to become more powerful magically and gain a large amount of forbidden knowledge to achieve the vengeance she wanted. It required nothing from her, no sacrifice or anything, except that she would  _have_  to complete her revenge within a certain timeframe – or she would die. If she'd been unlucky as the deadline drew nearer, the ritual would ensure her knowledge and magic ability to increase enough for her to complete the required task. It'd seemed almost perfect, with little drawback and costs, and she could get the revenge she wanted and grew more powerful in magic abilities at the same time.

It was a tempting deal.

Cautious as always, she'd set the time for fully destroying Voldemort within the ten years after he resurrected himself (which, it turned out, only took her less than five years after his resurrection), and another 8 months to also end Severus Snape's life (if he'd survived that long).

She'd told him that she wouldn't dismantle a useful weapon, but what she hadn't said was that after he was no longer useful, she'd planned to kill him as well.

She'd always believed in finishing things, especially revenges.

That was the original plan. She'd thought it'd be easy. Simple. She hadn't ever cared for him, after all. She'd always planned for him to be just a tool. More useful than most, but definitely still a tool.

She wasn't supposed to get attached.

(Every deal that seemed almost perfect had a catch. She ought to have known. Satan must be laughing at her now.)

 

* * *

 

She tried to rationalize with herself that if she didn't kill him, she'd die. But somehow, his place in her heart had shifted subtly from useful tools to people she cared for.

This wasn't going according to plan at all.

All her cruel efficiency at handling other people suddenly seemed to lost effect when it came to him. As much as her self-preserving side told her to, she found herself unable to kill him.

She laughed at her ridiculous herself was, and for the first time wanted to sob hysterically. She couldn't believe that after everything, she was going to let something as foolish as being in love kill her.

(You should never make deals with Satan.)

She told Blaise, not in so many details, but she wanted to prepare him for the worst, in case she couldn't summon her old ruthlessness back in time.

The boy looked stricken, an expression not often seen on his usually amused face (he'd inherited that from her). "Mum –"

"It might not come to that," she said, giving him a weak smile that only seemed to make him even more worried, "I just want you to know what the worst would be."

 

* * *

 

It happened, during their fifth advanced theoretical tutor potions lessons. Severus had been tutoring Gabriella's boy in this after the boy pled with him and said he really wanted to become a potions master too. He'd been so earnest, so eager, and Severus found himself unable to refuse.

Sometimes he suspected this family had Veela blood running in them.

The boy seemed to be quite fond of almond tea, and brought a bottle with him to drink every time. He offered Severus to taste it during their last lesson, and it did indeed tasted quite nice.

And so he offered to bring an extra bottle this time, and Severus just shrugged and said "sure, thanks."

The moment Severus realized it seemed to taste slightly different in a subtle way that was almost too subtle to realize for people who hadn't been studying potions all their life, he was already immobilized.

"I'm sorry, sir," Blaise Zabini said, his voice impassive. "But I'm sure you'd do the same if the roles were reversed."

 

* * *

 

Severus could only stare at him, unable to move. He'd rather thought that Blaise had taken a liking to him – he'd grown up around him, and had always seemed quite amused by his snark and sarcasm, and impressed with his potions skills.

And Severus supposed he'd quite like Blaise as well, or as well as he could like any teenagers, anyway. Blaise's mother might enjoy antagonizing him at times and was always more than eager to threaten him when the situation called for it, but Severus had never thought he would have to worry anything from the son.

"Cyanide," Blaise said, not looking at him. "I read it from muggle mystery novels. Taste like almonds. Nothing that they taught at Hogwarts, so I thought I take the chance that you might not know."

Severus did, in fact, know. How dare the boy doubt his knowledge in this kind of things? It wasn't the lack of knowledge in this that led to this downfall, but his trusting the wrong person. "Why?" Severus asked, angrily.

Blaise finally met his gaze. "Mum – did some ritual thing or whatever all those years ago. I don't know the details. But if you aren't dead within the 8 months of You-Know-Who's death – well, then  _she_ 'd die."

"What kind of stupid ritual was that?" Severus gritted his teeth.

Blaise shrugged, looking a little helpless. "I don't know. But as much as I like you, professor, she's my mother."

"You foolish boy," Severus hissed, but suddenly realized something, temporarily pulling him away from his anger. "But why isn't she coming here to do it herself? Was she –  _training you_  or something? Should I be expecting her appearance anytime?" His voice was sardonic.

 

* * *

 

Blaise sighed. Sometimes he couldn't believe that his mother – his mother, who told him that love was a foolish concept for the weak – would've actually gone soft because of Snape. Sure, Blaise get on with his mother's partner in crime (sort of) well enough, but he couldn't bloody understand what was it about Severus Snape that attracted his mum.

It'd been a hard decision, coming here. Well, planning was actually easy – he was his mother's son, after all – but actually facing the fact that he was about to poison someone wasn't as easy as he'd thought.

As much as Blaise thought that conscience was overrated, it turned out that he still had one.  _So this is what guilt feels like._  He tried to not think about it as taking a life, but rather saving one.

It was harder than he'd thought it'd ever be.

In front of him, Snape was still immobilized, but Blaise tightened the charm just to be cautious. He could see the cyanide taking effect.

He wanted to run away, to not witness this. But he forced himself to stay, because there were aftermaths to be taken care of, and anyway he  _had_  to make sure.

He watched on, as the effect became more and more obvious, and wonder if he would ever get over the nauseating feeling inside him.

And Blaise said, his voice choking as he watched the man die in front of him – "For what it's worth … I'm sorry it had to come to this."


End file.
